"Well, Hanka, this is rather unfortunate, in a way," he began finally. "You have evidently understood me to mean that when you got your divorce-- that if you only were free--Of course, I may have said something to that effect; I admit that if you have interpreted my words literally such a supposition is probably justified. I have most likely said things more than once--" "Yes, of course," she interrupted; "we have never meant anything else, have we? For you love me, don't you? What is the matter? You are so strange to-day!" "I am awfully sorry, but really--things are not as they used to be." He looked away sadly and searched for words. "I cannot lie to you, Hanka, and the plain truth is that I am not enraptured by you as much as I used to be. It would hardly be right to deceive you; anyway, I couldn't do it--it is beyond me." At last she understood; these were plain words. And quietly bending her head, yielding to the inevitable, letting go of the last lingering hope, she whispered in a dull and broken voice: "Couldn't do it; no--It is all over, irrevocably over--" He sat there silent. Suddenly she turned and looked at him. Her white teeth showed beneath the slightly raised upper lip as she endeavoured to force a smile. She said slowly: "But surely it cannot all be over, Irgens? Remember, I have sacrificed a great deal--" But he shook his head. "Yes, I am awfully sorry, but--Do you know what I was thinking of just now when I didn't answer you? You said 'irrevocably over.' I was wondering if that was proper grammar, if it sounded right. That shows how little this scene really affects me; you can see for yourself that I am not beside myself with grief--not even deeply stirred. That ought to show you--" And as if he wanted to utilise the opportunity to the utmost and leave no room for doubt, he continued: "Did you say that you have been here three times, looking for me? I know that you have been here twice. I think I ought to tell you, so that you can see how impossible it is for me to pretend: I sat here and heard you knock, but I didn't open. That surely proves the matter is serious--Dearest Hanka, I cannot help it; really, you mustn't be unhappy. But you surely will admit that our relationship must have been a little galling, a little humiliating, to me as well? It is true; it has not been easy for me to accept money from you continually; I have said to myself: 'This degrades you!' You understand, don't you--a man with a nature like mine; unhappily, I am proud, whether it is a virtue or a vice in me--" Pause. "All right," she said mechanically, "all right." And she rose in order to go. Her eyes were wide and staring, but she saw nothing.